


Libra

by tpurpleleaves



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tpurpleleaves/pseuds/tpurpleleaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A grain of rice can tip the scales so an extra life...</p>
<p>SI as Harry's twin sister.<br/>Eventual DM/OC HP/HG</p>
            </blockquote>





	Libra

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The clues in the name "fan-fiction". If I owned it there would be no need to write this fic.

Chapter 1

Emerald green eyes, framed with thick black lashes reflected back from the mirror.

Today was 'the' day, July 24th to be precise.

When the post arrived there would be two extra letters. One would be for me, and one for Harry.

Hogwarts.

I'd always been interested in the supernatural. In my previous life I'd been immersed in Wicca, Feng Shui and many 'new age' hobbies. Granted most of those might not transfer into the Hogwarts curriculum. Well with the exception of Runes.

I was tempted to grab the post myself. Unfortunately there was no guarantee that the 'story' would continue as normal if I did. Don't misunderstand; I had no intention of 'complying' with the whole mess. But I needed it to be Hagrid who picked us up. The gentle giant would be the least likely to suspect me of scheming a successful attempt of escaping the Dursley's for the rest of this summer.

I slathered toothpaste on my toothbrush.

I planned to be fully independent. To accomplish this I needed to access to Gringotts. The money that was in the vault would be the solution to many problems. I had no idea if Dumbledore would be able to monitor the account. If the account was monitored then Dumbledore would notice if I made more than one withdrawal. Regular transactions would cause suspicion, given Petunia's reaction to anything 'freakish' there was no way she'd let Harry and/or I take regular trips to Diagon Alley. The first trip to the wizarding bank would require me to withdraw a large amount of galleons.

Using cash wouldn't leave a paper trail.

Brushing my teeth, I mulled over how much time Harry and I would have to ourselves when Hagrid would require a drink after the Gringotts cart ride. It couldn't be much more than thirty minutes. I would have to act quickly in order to get everything I needed.

I would need to separate from Harry immediately after the giant left us. Whilst I'd grown to love my new sibling I couldn't rely on him not to ask questions, or keep the information given secret. It wasn't that Harry wasn't trustworthy; he was. But he was an open book to any witch or wizard with basic knowledge of legimency. Given that Snape and Dumbledore were so advanced in the subject, any secrets I gave Harry would instantly be plucked from his brain.

If Harry had no idea what I was doing, then the information wouldn't accidentally slip. Leaving Harry alone to conduct my business was the best option. This way I could acquire certain items of interest and ask questions, granted I already had a decent knowledge of the magical world but I'd require an alibi for knowing those things. I wouldn't be able to explain knowing how Floo works or how to call the Knight Bus without drawing interest. By being inquisitive, and showing I was searching for answers I'd draw less attention to how I gained my knowledge.

Not that I wouldn't be buying plenty of books anyway. Aside from lack of internet- God how I miss my blackberry!- to keep me entertained these would be 'actual' magic books. Another point was that knowledge was power and given there was a dark lord after Harry and I –I hadn't vanquished the bastard personally, but being one of the 'twins who lived' meant he'd be out for my blood- I'd need all the help available.

Aside from books, I'd have to glance at the schools charter. Quills might look nice but they splattered ink alarmingly. I fully intended to use muggle alternatives wherever available –fountain pens would be useful, given they gave the impression without the trouble of dipping repeatedly into an inkwell.

I spat into the sink and rinsed.

Mental checklist complete I crept back into the bedroom –not the cupboard- I'd shared with Harry for the past seven years.

Whereas in the book Harry had spent the better part of a decade inside the cupboard under the stairs -and would have likely done the same if I didn't exist- the Dursley's had reluctantly moved us into what had been Dudley's second bedroom.

Although they'd used the excuse that the cupboard was no longer big enough to fit both of us; I'm sure it had more to do with a teacher visiting after I'd dropped a few comments to the Dursleys about nursery and they couldn't call cupboard a cupboard "Teacher says it's wrong, we sleep in a bedroom not a cupboard" and "Says she might pay a visit". Harry and I were moved upstairs the next day.

Dudley had to be calmed down with cake and ice-cream. He had not wanted to give up the room. Vernon and Petunia had also appealed to his ego by saying "It's a baby's room" and "He was five, a big boy"- I'd snorted at that- "Surely you don't want a baby's room". Luckily it had worked, Dudley surrendered the room claiming that we- Harry and I - were babies and could have it.

Other than living arrangements, nothing about the situation seemed to differ too much from the original plot. The Dursley family completely abhorred 'freakishness'. They persistently clung to the ideal of 'normal'. They were a normal family, living a normal life.

Any occasion Harry and I erred from this ideal, we were locked in our room. They had at first used the cupboard but it eventually did get to small to fit us both.

Speaking of accidental magic, the boa incident at the zoo never happened. Whilst Dudley's birthday had required Harry and me to join the trip to the zoo, I had managed to get the Petunia to let us wander separately; it made the experience more enjoyable for everyone.

When we entered the reptile house after Dudley had proclaimed the animals boring, and dragged his parents away to see the lions. Harry was able to have conversations with the snakes without drawing the Dursley's ire. Given I wasn't a parselmouth I didn't understand a word they were saying and had to ask for translations. The ability to talk to snakes was very impressive; I was actually envious of Harry's linguistic skill to communicate with the serpents. Talking to a female king cobra was a highlight of the trip.

As we avoided the vanishing glass mess, Harry and I weren't locked up till the summer holidays started. Most of the time was spent in the local library.

Given Dudley and his gang had little interest in books it was the only place they didn't visit. It was a sanctuary for both me and my little brother. The one place that bullies never bothered us. Or more accurately bothered Harry. My brother attempted to run away whenever Dudley and his pals decided to pick on him. They had originally tried to do the same to me. Unfortunately for them I already had experience dealing with brutes like them.

I'd spent most of my previous life being bullied. In the past I'd attempted to ignore them, when that hadn't worked I'd tried to tell an adult. Whilst my parents and teachers had done their best to stop the problem it never worked. As soon as an adult walked away I'd again be at the mercy of whoever decided I fit the 'victim' category.

No, I'd learned how to deal with bullies - pain. It was the only method I'd never resorted to before; I'd always been too afraid; too afraid of breaking rules, too afraid that I'd be in trouble for defending myself.

It was one of my biggest regrets. I'd never stood up for myself. Being bullied so frequently meant I'd missed class. Whenever it was time to get ready for school I'd feel sick. There wasn't anything physically wrong. I didn't suffer from any ailments that required antibiotics and bed rest. It was psychological.

My final year of high school had a less than sixty four percent attendance record. Although I managed to get eight grade 'C' GCSE's I would have achieved higher marks if I'd actually attended school. I'll never be able to undo that part of my life. I damaged my future to avoid a bunch of assholes. Looking back, even now, I wished I'd had the courage to hit them. To say, "Fuck you!"

It was a mistake I wasn't about to make in this life. When Dudley had attempted to push me around, I pushed back. When he tried to beat me up, I hit and kicked back -usually between the legs.

Adults disapproved of my actions; the whole "Tell a teacher" crap was repeated when I argued I was the victim. They disliked my response of "What good is that? Ok, you punish him, give him detention. Prison doesn't cure criminals, it just teaches them not to get caught."

As a result I often was the one to get detention.

Or at least I did until I changed schools. Fed up with the situation, I played the stunted genius. The one, physiologists say act out, out of boredom. Well I suppose it wasn't a complete lie. Primary school was dull. Given I'd managed to graduate university with an honour's degree, relearning my ABC's could be done with my eyes shut.

I swiped a test paper for sixth graders and proceeded to answer it in front of my teacher.

Thinking it was a joke that I somehow managed to memorize the answers she'd laughed it off, until I did it again with a different test.

She took it to the Head-teacher who ordered an official test. I aced it.

Within a week, I tested out of primary school and into high school. It might have gone further if I hadn't been stumped with trigonometry. Although I was good at maths I'd always struggled to remember the rules that applied to the subject. Damn it.

Still it was an impressive leap. As it stood I'd be finished with comprehensive muggle school just before I started Hogwarts.

The Dursleys hadn't been pleased. Dudley had thrown a tantrum; he'd wanted to advance years ahead also. Vernon had argued, in the spirit of fairness that I wasn't the only one tested. As a result Harry had also been included in the intelligence testing. At the end it had left the Dursley's thoroughly embarrassed. Harry whilst not reaching my level had managed to test up two years- this may have been due to the fact I'd been teaching him to read and write since potty training. Dudley failed spectacularly, he was actually below standard for his age group as most children in our class could read simple sentences and count to twenty.

As soon as we got back to Privet Drive, he'd bellowed at Harry and me for being smarter than his son. We were grounded for three months.

Although the Dursley's never beat us, that didn't mean they were anything close to nurturing. Harry and I only advanced with our guardians' permission because of neighborhood gossip. It wouldn't do for such kind and charitable people as the Dursleys to neglect their talented niece and nephew.

If only they knew!

Given that I was so special, I was the priority. Vernon and Petunia managed to find a private school which offered what could equate to a scholarship. It was a rare find, all the more tempting as the Dursleys' couldn't/wouldn't go beyond a modest budget. Also the fact that it was a girl's catholic school and the biblical quote 'shalt not suffer a witch' played some part I'm sure.

Harry was no where near as lucky. As he only managed to test up two years he was still in primary school. Petunia told the neighbours it was because they didn't want to divide the family. If Harry left primary school, Dudley would be on his own. Also Harry was still on the lower school curriculum it made little sense to send him to a new school when he could just join a class with the seven to eight year olds.

Another benefit of going to a different school –one a bit further away- was that the Dursley's had to provide me with travel money. Vernon refused to get up an hour earlier just to take me to school. So I was given just enough money to take the bus, which dropped me just a ten minute walk away. What my aunt and uncle were unaware of was that I earlier bus than required and got off a few stops earlier to save money.

Alongside the savings I made, I also supplemented my income with the spare change found in Vernon's and Dudley's pockets on laundry day or checking under the cushions of the sofa and chairs. It astounded me how much money the Dursley's practically threw away. It was common for me to have collected nearly twenty pounds every week.

At first I stored the money underneath a loose floorboard in mine and Harry's room. Unfortunately this was only a temporary solution. Given I knew Harry would discover my hiding space at some point in the future- despite the fact neither of us had many possessions to clutter our room Petunia ordered us to clean the room at least once a week. It was necessary to get a bank account, it wasn't easy, being a child I needed a adult to sign the papers. I also had to get a post box for the bank letters to be delivered to. It wouldn't do to have the Dursleys to find an official letter addressed to me from Barclays bank. I could only imagine their reaction to me having a private savings account –the fact the money was obtained though less than honest means would only make it worse.

I got one of the older girls at school to help me. While most of the pupils came from rich and well to do backgrounds, there were a few that were in the same boat as me. One of them -Jennifer- was in social care. She understood what it was like to have a crappy family and covered for me when we went to the bank. With her acting as my pseudo guardian- I'd been able to rent a post box and open a bank account. I didn't put all my money in the bank however. While I didn't need an adult to deposit money I would need one to make a withdrawal. Instead I stored my extra money as well as my account book in the post box. It was risky, I admit. There was no guarantee that someone wouldn't break into it or my things would be there if whenever it was opened to insert my post. But, I figured a stranger would be better than Harry or the Dursley's finding them.

Harry would question me about it, he'd never approve of my actions despite how poorly we were treated. Although I'd managed to make him less disapproving of my thievery where food was concerned – I'd often swipe crisps and biscuits from the kitchen to share with him- he wouldn't tolerate money. He had morals in spite of lousy role-models and his beliefs would compel him to stop me even if it meant getting me in trouble.

Harry's sense of wrong and right was just another reason to hide my schemes from him. Dumbledore had been able to manipulate Harry into certain situations easily knowing my brother would follow the 'right' path in the end. Maybe during fifth year I'd be able to persuade Harry that the Headmaster wasn't the all-knowing bastard he passed himself as.

Glancing at the little alarm clock on the bedside table that sat between the twin beds I saw it was a little after ten in the morning. Petunia would be up shortly, during the holidays the Dursley's only slept in on the Weekends as Vernon still had to be at work at nine. Today was Saturday so it allowed for an extra hour or two in bed. A slight downside was that Harry and I would be required to make a cooked breakfast. Most of which we wouldn't get to sample.

Deciding to avoid the shrill voice of aunty dearest, I woke Harry up myself. He let out a quiet moan as I shook his shoulder, turning and burying his head deeper into the poor excuse of a pillow.

"Harry, Harry it's time to get up."

"Mmm, what?" he asked sleepily as I shook him again.

"Up" I pressed "You need to get up. Petunia will be up soon. Do you want her to yell at us? "

Harry groaned as he sat up, putting on his glasses he blinked as the time on the clock came into focus.

Muttering he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom taking a change of clothes with him. While Harry got dressed I puttered around the bedroom. I had a small pile of books that I needed to return to the library. It was a small concession granted to me, being smarter than most children my age I'd been allowed by the Dursley's to visit the local library provided I still completed my chores. I took advantage of the opportunity to escape from Privet Drive almost daily. I also managed to drag Harry along for most of the visits. I wondered if Harry would be sorted into Ravenclaw given he'd developed a love of books alongside me.

Considering the first Hogwarts letter would arrive today it might be the last opportunity to return the books without risking a fine for them being overdue. When I first arrived in this world I had worried if I would be able to do magic. Being born to two magical parents didn't ensure I'd have the ability like Harry. I hadn't had any powers in my previous life- hell I didn't really have any talents, I couldn't dance, sing, play an instrument or speak any foreign languages beyond a passable GCSE in Spanish. It was possible for me to be a completely normal person in this life also.

The idea of me being non-magical didn't last long. Less than a week after being dumped at the Dursley's I managed my first magical feat. Harry and I had been left alone for most of the day considering Petunia only deigned to check on us three times a day. I'd been left to suffer a dirty nappy for over an hour – crying hadn't brought any notice – being uncomfortable I'd done my best to ignore the feeling. Miserable I'd started to wish I could wriggle free.

I wanted to be clean.

It happened almost faster than I could comprehend. One moment I was enduring the disgusting feeling of my bodily waste clinging to my skin, the next thing I knew the nappy was gone! I had no idea where it went.

When Petunia came to check on me later she was stunned to find me without a nappy. My clothing was still intact so I hadn't wriggled out of it. The answer was obvious; it upset her greatly to have proof I was magical and she spent most of the night trying to find out where I'd banished the nappy to.

Watching her search the room top to bottom was hilarious. It was petty, I know. But I found it very enjoyable to see her so out of sorts. It was only fair considering she'd made me feel so uncomfortable earlier.

Knowing I was a witch was a blessing and a curse. Being magical I meant I could escape the Dursleys, I could go to Hogwarts and learn real magic. Downside was I knew being Harry's twin I'd have a target on my back. Even if I managed to avoid getting involved in Harry's adventures, Voldemort would still want me dead. Granted being a muggle would still place me on his hit list, the only difference was I'd be better able to protect myself and Harry.

I'd never had a younger sibling in my previous life, while I'd been my mother's only child I had been the youngest of my father's four children. Growing up I often wished to be an older sister rather than being the baby of the family. I hadn't realized at the time what pain my words had caused. My mother had never being particularly healthy and had struggled greatly whilst pregnant with me. She had needed a hysterectomy shortly after birthing me. It was impossible for me to have a baby brother or sister.

Maybe that was why I'd been reborn in this world. I mused as I stuffed the books into a backpack.

"I'm dressed." Harry announced re-entering the room.

Turning I saw Harry now dressed in one of Dudley's hand-me-downs, attempting to comb his hair. I rolled my eyes before plucking the comb from his hands, I motioned towards the bed. I doubted a professional hairdresser would be to control that mop. Once he was sat I did my best to reign in the 'rolled out of bed' look. It would be some years before that fashion became popular.

It took several brushes before Harry's hair appeared less unkempt. Although it wouldn't last long, Petunia was less likely to nag about us being presentable in public.

She really should focus on her son and husband.

Giving Harry a quick look over, I set the comb back down and picked up my bag. Together we headed downstairs to get breakfast ready.

Let the chaos commence.


End file.
